


hit and run

by JeanSouth



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 21:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 12,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/626932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanSouth/pseuds/JeanSouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>shorter Kurobasu fics that don't warrant a separate work. (of the more common midotaka aokise akamura kagakuro etc ships).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sighs old stuff  
> murahimu halloween

“Muro-chin,” Murasakibara groaned as the doorbell went again. Halloween in the USA was chilly and busy, much different from what he knew at home. It was interesting, and there were many types of food, but he had to get up all the time. “I don’t want to answer the door. It’s boring.”

There were a dozen bowls of candy in the hallway of Himuro’s father’s house, filled with all sorts of interesting things, with a small fog machine creating a gloomy mist on the floor. The mist added a strange smokey scent over the sweet smell of candy.

Muro-chin seemed to love Halloween though, going out of his way to dress them both up. He’d called Murasakibara the world’s least ambitious vampire as he wrapped a long, long cloak around him and settled two tiny fangs over his canines. The look was good, because Muro-chin didn’t do things halfway, but the lazy expression and boneless sprawl on the couch didn’t send a message of dark predator of the night.

Murasakibara was secretly of the opinion that Muro-chin was simply too nice looking to be a vampire. He was handsome, of course, and when he smiled his own fangs peeked out from below his lips. But he smiled kindly, and didn’t even try to loom or be intimidating or scary at all. Muro-chin was hopeless.

With a heave of a deep sigh, Murasakibara dragged himself from the couch. The light in the middle of the room had almost accosted him once, and he’d made it a point to avoid it every time after that. He had to stoop to get through the doorway, but it gave him the perfect view of the people in the doorway. Young teenagers.

If Muro-chin wasn’t going to be a good vampire, someone else would have to. His hair was in the way, so he shook his head until his eyes were visible.

The children at the door never expected him as he draped himself lazily over Muro-chin’s shoulders, sending them dark looks he usually only reserved for those he felt scorn for. His arms were long enough to reach into the bowl of candy that was held in front of them, grabbing a handful of candy and holding it up. One or two slipped through his fingers, falling back into the bowl with a soft rustle.

When he grinned at them, his fangs were visible, drawing their attention. After a second, the small superhero in front of him grinned and declared something in English before taking a handful of candy from his large palms. When they left, he grabbed another handful and dropped back onto the couch.

A laughing Muro-chin followed him in moments later as he door fell shut behind him, and two tiny little fangs pricked his lips when Muro-chin kissed him. He tasted like sweet cherry candy and sugar all around, and Murasakibara decided that this was a good enough motivation to act his part.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> midotaka, nsfw.

He has these guilty pleasures, you see.

Takao likes it when Midorima scolds him in a voicemail. Sometimes when they’re together he’ll say things like I might buy _50 shades of grey_ , or _that new tv show is great_ , and Midorima leaves him voicemails telling everything that’s (rightfully) wrong with whatever he said.

He doesn’t know Takao does it on purpose.

Right now Takao’s not sure what Midorima’s going on about. His fingers are slick and smell faintly strawberry thanks to the lube that came in the mail; they feel good and full inside of him.

His fingers aren’t as long as Midorima’s, and they’re not as skilled, but when he closes his eyes he can imagine that they are. With Midorima’s familiar voice playing he imagines different words in their place in the same scolding tone.

I told you not to misbehave, Takao imagines him saying on an inward stroke. He imagines Midorima kneeling between his legs, looking down on him with the intense focus he usually reserves for basketball. Shin-chan’s fingers are so well taken care of, it adds to Takao’s guilty thrill to think of them inside him. 

But you always misbehave, you know what happens when you misbehave, he imagines Midorima telling him, when he twists his own fingers inside of himself and thrusts them back in as swiftly as the angle lets him. Do you try to make me annoyed with you, Takao? Because you know this happens?

Maybe you do, the Midorima in his head tells him at the same time as the voicemail does, making him whimper and twist, fingers curling tight around his cock so he can draw it out until the voicemail’s over and done with. You’re holding on to my fingers so tight, like you want something else instead.

When the voicemail nears its end Takao does too, moving faster to get himself off before it ends. Midorima always ends voicemails the same way -

Takao.

He comes, long and hard and all over his hand, satisfied. His pleasure isn’t guilty enough to make him stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> midotaka, based on this.   
> http://sweet-tsuntarou.tumblr.com/post/34151450783

Midorima likes his life. He runs a tea house near a mountain, and customers are slow, few and far between but enough to keep him living comfortably. He goes into the city once a month with his closest neighbour (who is not very close at all), and buys things like books and the occasional snack. He makes pastries from seasonal fruits for his guests; he lives well and quietly.

Takao is an intrusion. But from the very first sight, he’s the cutest intrusion Midorima has ever seen in his entire life. The shop’s just closed, but the door’s still open to cool the hot kitchen. Takao stumbles in soaking wet and innocent, looking like he fell into one of the natural springs not far away from here.

“Come in,” He says after some hesitation, and when Takao steps in he catches a glimpse of a slightly different texture of hair. On a closer look, it’s fur, instead. Midorima wants the earth to swallow him up so he doesn’t have to make a choice on how to continue this situation.

Takao is quiet and fidgety when Midorima gets him a towel, looks confused when Midorima doesn’t leave, and stops him when he almost tries to.

“My name is Takao Kazunari,” The whatever-he-is offers Midorima, and he calls Midorima Shin-chan when he offers his name in return. Something about him feels a little lonely, and Midorima wants to fix it.

“Here,” He says when Takao is finally done and his tail has become a giant bundle of soft, fluffy fur. Despite the lack of customers, he bakes the same amount every day and feeds them to the squirrels if they don’t get eaten. The cookie is almost in Takao’s mouth when he gives him a wideeyed look and asks him if he can really, truly eat it. 

Both his ears and his tail perk up when he gets permission, looking so simply pleased at being allowed to that it breaks Midorima’s heart a little. Without thinking, he grabs Takao by the hands and asks him what’s going on, where he’s from, why he’s out on his own in the dark when it’s not safe.

And Takao tells him everything with a smile and a careless expression; how he’s rare (and the phrase pisses Midorima off, because it makes Takao seem like a thing) and the temple kept him. He tells Midorima about how they almost never talk to him, and they make him eat like the religious men. How he has to stay in and be good and not play or roll in piles of leaves or do anything at all. And in the end, about how it was easy to run away and he doesn’t miss it because he knows nice people like Shin-chan are out there.

The world is a dark place though, and Midorima knows it (it’s why he moved out of society, and the temple is yet another example of the dark world), so before he can actually help himself or think it through, he blurts out a suggestion.

“You could stay with me,” He says, and Takao surges forward within a split second, hugging him tight with his arms around Midorima’s neck. He’ll introduce Takao to things like internet and tv slowly, keep him away from dangerous things. When he lifts his arms and wraps them around Takao, his tail sways happily.

He feels one soft, fluffy ear flick and brush his cheek softly. Selfishly, he wants to keep Takao to himself. Maybe he’s part of the dark world, too.

(In the end, Takao pounces him in the autumn and tells him he already knows about society and things like that, because even temples have administration and computers; he just wanted to live quietly with Shin-chan. Midorima forgives him when Takao makes it better with a kiss. After that, without the fear of him blowing up the kitchen, he makes Takao cook more often.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sky diving instructor aomine & client kise

“When we’re up there, I’m gonna open the door, okay?” Aomine asks him for the seventy-billionth time. Kise starts to regret his choice to go skydiving after about three of the six hours of classes beforehand, and they all sound like the same thing. “Then I’m gonna count to three, and we’re gonna jump.”

Aomine has a lot of easy confidence, but it’s still awkward as hell to be up in a plane with him.

“Okay,” Aomine says again, and Kise watches the people before him shuffle to the door and drop out. Part of him doesn’t really click what’s happening. Aomine calls him forward. Without thinking, his legs go. 

Like they told him to in training, he puts his left hand on the wing of the plane.

“One, two…” Aomine counts, standing behind him. Then he pushes, like an asshole, and Kise screams like he’s never screamed before, wondering why he thought this was a good idea.

Six hours of classes make him pull the string on the parachute a moment later, stopping him from a 120 miles and hour down to about five, and he can almost feel his voice raise three pitches when all the stopped velocity centers at his crotch.

When the ground gets close, he doesn’t even bother standing and just curls into a fetal position, wondering if sky divers are just ken dolls.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Aomine asks from next to him, patting him on the head. Smug motherfucker.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokaga, playing slender.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Aomine chants when they’re two pages in, and a loud noise spooks him from the laptop screen. He doesn’t know why he let himself get coerced into playing Slender, and he doesn’t know why he decided to let Kagami be in control of the keyboard. “We’re gonna get fucked.”

“Go forward,” Kagami grinds out through gritted teeth when Aomine spooks and jerks the camera skywards, making it impossible to go in a straight line. Though he doesn’t notice, he keeps gradually scooting himself further back towards his former teammates sitting behind him. “Go in a fucking straight line! If you keep turning left, we’re only going to keep finding the fence!”

Aomine listens, if only because Kagami (though just as terrified, being in a dark quiet room with a creepy game) seems a little more in control of his own emotions.

“A bathhouse?” Aomine asks, his voice raising a pitch when they come to a building full of small rooms and hallways that look like they have death written all over them. He feels his man points slowly slip away. They take a left and a right, systematically going through the rooms until they find a page on a chair. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

“AH RWQGERB;GERBRREGVQER;,” Kagami lets out when they turn a corner, running almost facefirst into the Slenderman, the screen crackling up with noise blasting from the speakers. Aomine lets out a whimpered cry, practically throwing the mouse away from him and scrambling backwards.

Kuroko laughs quietly in the background. Aomine vows to get revenge.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murahimu, actually what spawned the vampire!au.

Himuro doesn’t wonder how they got into this position, because it’s entirely his own fault. Himuro vows to never drink again, because drinking leads him to these kinds of situations.

When he first moved in with a vampire, it was weird and a little unpleasant, but Atsushi just didn’t like mornings and got his blood in a little plastic container delivered to the door every day. (He warmed it up in an ugly cup that was bright yellow.) Then he’d gotten drunk, and Atsushi’s blood supplier had called, and some stupid, survival-less part of his brain had felt the need to tell the person on the phone it was fine, Atsushi didn’t need their services because he had a perfectly good blood supply here.

Which brings him here.

“Are you sure?” Himuro asks Atsushi one last time when he draws his tongue over Himuro’s skin, humming softly as if debating whether or not he’s a tasty meal. After being a tenant here for a few weeks, he’s started to understand that Atsushi likes sweet things, and he doesn’t count himself as one.

“Muro-chin offered, it would be rude to say no,” Atsushi replies, and makes one little puncture wound in his neck. It hurts, even when he sucks, and it’s not at all the way he imagined.

“This isn’t sexy at all,” Himuro offers with a frown, because no matter how he looks at it, someone slurping blood through two giant holes in his neck isn’t sexy. “I don’t mean sexy, sexy. I mean, it’s not how books make it out to be at all.”

Atsushi lets go and watches him for narrowed eyes with a second, holding Himuro’s chin in one hand.

“Do you want it to be sexy?” He asks, and Himuro really wishes they hadn’t latched onto that word but nods anyway. Atsushi’s eyes go from a suspicious squint to halflidded seduction, and Himuro can’t bring himself to look away. They’re gorgeous and light, with an unnatural flame behind them that makes him stare and try to focus on it. Before he knows it, his mind is blank except for Atsushi.

When he looks away, the effect stays and Himuro melts into Atsushi’s arms, tilting his head back with a breathy sigh. When he tries this time, it’s like he can feel everything. The subtle scrape of teeth, the slightly chapped lips and hot tongue trailing across his skin. It doesn’t hurt when Atsushi sucks, he feels good.

A smile takes his lips, and Atsushi has to hold a hand to the back of his head to keep him from sliding off the couch in pleased oblivion. To hold on, he wraps his arms around Atsushi’s back and squeezes tight.

It’s over before he knows it, and he moans involuntarily when Atsushi licks the bites shut and settles for just petting him.

“Can we do that again?” Himuro asks when he regains all of his mental faculties, and briefly wonders if an A blood type is sweet. “That was… very sexy.”

Atsushi looks at him for a moment, though he doesn’t look like he drank anything sour of bitter, so it seems okay.

“Muro-chin is already a bite junkie,” He remarks, tugging Himuro into his lap with a long suffering sigh that sounds like it’s really just for show. He sucks up a hickey (without teeth, Himuro wonders if he’s the first one to get a hickey from a vampire), so Himuro figures it’s okay. He’ll ask if he tastes sweet later.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more murahimu vamp!au uwu

“Do I taste good?” Himuro asks eventually, long after he’s stopped using his own bed and gotten used to being in Atsushi’s. It has a ton of blankets, and if Atsushi weren’t so tall his bed would seem decadently big.

“Good?” Atsushi asks him, sounding slightly muffled. “Muro-chin tastes like Muro-chin.”

“What does that mean?” He asks with a frown, lacing his fingers into Atsushi’s hair. Even when he pulls, Atsushi doesn’t remove his mouth from Himuro’s hipbone, sucking up a mark with stunning dedication. “I don’t get you. You always seem hungry, but you don’t take more! Do I taste bad?”

Atsushi stops for a second, turning to look at him. With a sigh he makes himself move back up the bed, pulling Himuro into a snuggle.

“Muro-chin is only human, right?” Atsushi asks him, leaning on him with a sigh. “Muro-chin tastes only like Muro-chin. Not sweet or smokey or bitter. Muro-chin tastes decadent. I don’t eat food, I can’t tell Muro-chin what blood tastes like.”

His fingers stroke over the small scars on Himuro’s neck that came from feeding in the same place too often; they’re pale enough no one ever asks, but he knows they’re there if he runs his fingers over them without thinking.

“Muro-chin tastes nice to me. I like it. But Muro-chin is a human, and if I take too much, it’s not good for humans.” He continues, sighing again as if it should have been obvious from the very start. “It’s not that I don’t want Muro-chin to have to stay in my bed all the time, but I don’t want it if it’s because I take so much Muro-chin is forced to stay.”

And it’s a good enough explenation, especially when Atsushi ends the conversation with a soft satisfied hum, sets about leaving a few dozen marks on his neck and wrists. More so when he eventually feeds gently from his inner thigh. It’s a struggle to focus through the pleasant haze of a bite, but for all the pleasure he feels, when he watches Atsushi’s face, Atsushi looks happy too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokuro, sadness??

Kuroko used to love him. It’s a shock when they meet again.

In Teiko it was natural, to touch hands and let himself smile at Aomine. It was natural to go home together, and sit next to eachother on the train. It felt like he was doing what his body naturally intended when he looked at Aomine, and felt his heart skip a beat. He used to smell like the weather; wind or sunshine or rain sticking to his skin like he was a force of nature. His skin would feel soft if Kuroko put a hand on it. They’re contrast. He’d always thought it was funny that being the shadow, he was lighter than Aomine.

But now that they’re together again, he doesn’t feel anything.

They wear different uniforms, Aomine is a little bit taller. There’s a tiny scar on the left corner of his mouth that looks like it came from a small cut Aomine wouldn’t stop picking open. He was never good at leaving well enough alone.

Aomine’s grown broader too, he eclipses the sun more when he stands in front of Kuroko, and his hair needs a trim.

It’s weird, because where Aomine has changed, he’s stayed the same. He feels like one half of a stone; left on the banks of a river. He’s unchanged, where Aomine has been swept away by a river. Time and grit have smoothed the edges of Aomine where Kuroko once fit, polished the edges to a razor shine that tells no tales of the other half that used to be there.

“Aomine-kun,” He greets, because it feels wrong to greet this stranger with the name his other half used to have. He hasn’t felt Aomine’s hands in months, but Aomine doesn’t reach out to him. He just stares, all smooth edges and improvement that doesn’t need anyone else.

“Kuroko,” Aomine says, just as quiet, and even his voice has gotten a little deeper. The shadow of Kagami falls over him, making his back cool where he blocks the sun. Kagami’s shadow is big too, full of jagged edges.

He doesn’t fit with Kagami the way he fit with Aomine; they’re not two halves of the same thing, but they’re smoothing down their edges and slotting themselves together. They learn the lay of eachother, valleys and curves, but every part of himself he shaves away to fit with Kagami feels like ripping apart skin and bone. It’s not natural.

“We’ll win today,” Kagami says, and his hands are warm on Kuroko’s shoulder (warm, hands are always warm, he can’t reach out anymore when there’s no one reaching back; he can’t reach out to Aomine’s back when he won’t turn around, he refuses to). “I definitely won’t let you win.”

And Aomine’s dark eyes watch Kagami. It’s really that easy for him; a blink and he looks away from Kuroko. A blink and he’s on to a better opponent. 

When Aomine plays, Kuroko wonders if he was wrong; they’re not two halves of stone, but of coal, and pressure has made Aomine turn to diamond. Diamond shines on its own.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mitokoga.

“I really like this one,” Koganei tells him, enthusiastic as ever. He’s like a bottomless pit for food; not as bad as Kagami but beyond the range of a regular teenaged boy. No matter what Mitobe puts in front of him, he somehow manages to make all of it disappear pretty quickly. “I like all of them, but this one is my favourite.” 

He points at a plate with only a residue of tan sauce left on it, with a little bit of plain rice on the side. There’s a little more in the pan, but Mitobe is hesitant to feed Koganei until he turns into a tiny, cat-faced blimp.

Koganei tilts his head back when Mitobe puts a hand on it and pets him gently, letting him know he understands and appreciates the feedback. He likes cooking, but living alone means it’s usually a shame to cook when half of it won’t get eaten. Having Koganei around makes everything easier. 

“Thanks for feeding me,” He says when he gets up and pushes his way into Mitobe’s arms, giving him a firm, affectionate hug. Mitobe settles for leaning down to return the hug better. Koganei is always enthusiastic, even when he hugs, so he practically vibrates with restless energy. He holds onto Mitobe like he’ll break at first every time, but tightens his arms like he won’t let go. “It was delicious.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kagahimu, tw: death.

“It’s so hot in here,” Himuro complains, a bright party hat sitting lopsidedly on his head. His sweater is a soft cream colour and feels like heaven when Kagami touches it. He finally has his license, and they’d all taken the opportunity to celebrate a little too far. Himuro smells like coconut pina coladas, but he hasn’t touched a drop himself.

The windows to the car are already open, but even the night air is hot when it streams in. Light flashes by when they pass the streetlights that are widely spaced along the dark road. Trees line the sides, giving the owners of the houses privacy.

Himuro struggles tipsily at first to get his sweater off, mumbling curses in Japanese and English mixed together. Kagami reaches over, opening his seatbelt with a click. With the same hand, he tugs the soft sweater off Himuro’s shoulder, tempted by the pale skin to run his hand over it. He gets a smile for it, and the sweater disappears into the back seat. His hand trails over Himuro’s bicept to his chest, his stomach and then his thighs. 

Himuro’s smile is captivating when Kagami start rubbing his thigh.

Then all he hears is noise for a split second, before all that remains is the sounds of nature.

His ribs hurt, and the nearest streetlight is too far away to see anything. Even his windpipe feels bruised when he breathes in hard and smells gasoline.

“Shit,” He mutters, undoing his seatbelt with shaking hands. He turns to get Himuro out too, and bile climbs up the back of his throat when he remembers Himuro’s seatbelt was already undone. Silence climbs up his spine with claws and knives.

“Tatsuya,” He says, still not looking away from the ashtray that’s popped open. He doesn’t get a reply, and he has to look eventually. Himuro is lurched forward, head against the windshield. Spider cracks spiral out in the glass from the top of his head.

There’s no blood, not even from his mouth, and he reaches out to tug Himuro up on the off chance. Himuro’s head falls to the side at an unnatural angle though, away from him.

The silence is painful before he lets go of Himuro’s body, swallowing hard. He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about him hurts.

Himuro would know what to do.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokaga, 'shag me' prompt.

Aomine climbs off the bed, avoiding Kagami’s legs so as to not make a fool out of himself by tripping. The bed side table has two drawers, and the top one has all he needs. His phone is sleek and black, with a perfect camera that’s exactly what he was looking for.

He stands near the edge of the bed, ignoring the muffled sounds that could be protests or encouragements.

“For memory’s sake,” Aomine drawls, holding up the phone so he can take a few pictures. “You’re photogenic.”

Kagami scowls at him, but the compliment was true. Kagami looks amazing on the pictures, not even Aomine can deny that.

His eyes are full of the same determination, watching Aomine from over a small bar in his mouth preventing him from speaking. Behind his head, his arms are tied up. With them tied up it makes his chest stand out, muscles defined and amazing. It’s too tempting to not run his fingers over Kagami’s obliques.

“Quit glaring at me, I’m saying nice things,” Aomine rolls his eyes, dragging his nails over Kagami’s abs to his hips, down his legs. They’re spread wide, held there by extra restraints. It’s everything he could ask for.

There’s another muffled noise when he settles between Kagami’s legs, watching him. A few pillows prop him up and keep him at a good angle to watch.

Every muscle in Kagami’s body tenses when he flicks a simply switch, and the toy he left inside Kagami starts to vibrate. 

Kagami shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut when tears appear at the corners of them. His cock is rock hard, twitching softly now and then. Aomine doesn’t regret for a second goading Kagami into a bet that he knew he’d win. 

The cuff he’d fastened tight around Kagami’s cock holds well and stops him from coming, and he can’t beg at all.

Aomine unzips his jeans, taking his own cock in his hand. Watching Kagami writhe is the best thing he’s ever seen, erotic despite the lack of breasts, and full of the kind of decadent pleasure he loves. 

It’s easy to get off looking at Kagami, and he cleans himself off with a tissue. Kagami watches him with confused eyes when he gets up and makes for the door, going for a can of beer.

“Not yet,” Aomine says, shrugging with a pleased smirk. “Maybe later.”

He could get used to this.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murahimu, fluff

“Muro-chin is good at this,” Atsushi remarks, resting his chin on top of Himuro’s head. His arms are around Himuro’s waist, holding on lightly. Up on the tv screen, an attractive Italian man assassinates two guards and starts a sword fight. 

“Thank you,” He finishes the sword fight, effectively ending the mission. The game launches into a cutscene, and Himuro puts down his controller. There’s popcorn to the left of him, and he tilts his head back, looking for an upside down kiss. He gets it, and it tastes like salt. 

Atsushi doesn’t let go when Himuro turns around, but holds on tighter instead. 

“I need to get a drink,” Himuro protests, trying to get up. Atsushi steals another kiss before standing. A minute or so later he comes back with drinks; they smell sweet and taste like strawberries. Settling back against Atsushi is comfortable, and his arms wind back around Himuro’s waist like a routine.

They do this all the time; Himuro brings over games and he watches. Watching is more fun, it doesn’t take as much effort and when Himuro plays it everything goes right.

“Muro-chin would look nice as an assassin,” He mumbles, hugging Himuro tighter. He’s pretty, tall enough and with a slender kind of muscle. The heavy armour would cling to him, and he’d make a striking picture with an ornate sword.

“You’re complimenting me a lot today,” Himuro teases, humor in his voice. He lets go of the controller with one hand and reaches for a bag of gummy bears, holding it up to let Atsushi take it. Atsushi tends to eat the heads first; Himuro calls him a sadist. “What would you like for dinner?”

He sighs a request for more time to think, leaning on Himuro. As long as Himuro’s around, he doesn’t really mind anything.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murahimu  
> ... more vamp!au don't look at me

He comes home in the late evening on a Tuesday night feeling good and finds Atsushi sitting by the fire. The tv’s on quiet with a halfdecent show playing; Atsushi has a tub of blood icecream in his lap. 

(Himuro tried it once out of curiosity; Atsushi made it sound amazing with the life-filled taste of phoenix in contrast to the earthy flavour of troll blood. Himuro spent the next five minutes washing his mouth out with coke.)

The ice cream is forgotten easily when Himuro strips off his scarf and coat; in winter the dozen faint scars on his neck are invisble. Two of them stand out when he looks closely in the mirror, but he wears them proud. The gloves he strips off go in his coat pockets, his boots slide under the radiator close by.

Atsushi’s hands are warmed by the fire where they’re usually cold, and the heat has flushed his cheeks to the point he almost looks human. Teeth scrape Himuro’s exposed shoulder softly when he kneels then sits in Atsushi’s lap.

Taking a kiss is natural, good, the familiar feeling of fangs against his mouth.

“No,” Atsushi says, pushing Himuro away, and his face is scrunched up into a look of disgusted displeasure. He shovels a spoonful of icecream in his mouth, displeasure fading as it melts. He does it a few more times, unaware of the annoyed look increasing on Himuro’s face.

“Why are you pushing me away?” Himuro asks, dangerously quiet, for once without a smile on his face. Atsushi likes touching his face, drawing his fingers over Himuro’s cheekbones and down his jawline. Frequently, it comes with comments that he’s pretty.

Atsushi stops from where he has another spoonful halfway to his mouth, putting it down again. Understanding dawns on him, the kind of understanding that comes when he has to be reminded that Himuro is human, and in terms of his lifetime, young.

“Muro-chin tastes bad,” Atsushi says, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Himuro’s shoulders. His hands rub at his back apologetically. “Like garlic.”

“Oh,” Himuro closes his eyes, sighing. “I’ll go brush my teeth.”

Later, Atsushi makes him promise to not eat it again. Himuro agrees.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kagakise, schmoopy sex? idk man i tried it

Kagami is often delicate with him; full of brash words and big hands, but ultimately delicate. He touches Kise like he might break, hands hovering over his skin as if he’s still not sure he’s allowed to touch. He barely brushes his lips against Kise’s at first, just a breath away from a proper kiss.

He plays with the same enthusiasm, maybe even more. His dunks grow in confidence, height and speed. Their matches are full of excited tension and teasing eyecontact. There’s banter here and there when they have the breath to really speak, when they go to drink. 

Kise keeps thinking he might gain confidence with him; stop treating him like porcelain every time he proves that they’re equals. He tries to taunt him into getting further than butterfly touches with heated glances and hot words; Kagami never does.

“I don’t know - not with a guy - and,” Kagami manages when Kise asks for the thousandth time, arms wrapped around Kise from behind in the bathtub filled with clear water. It’s a big tub; hot baths are Kise’s vice and he likes to indulge. He has a legion of variously dressed rubber duckies off to one side that are gag gifts from his friends and coworkers; after one of them gave him a ducky he rapidly gathered a collection. One dressed as a pirate gets crushed in Kagami’s hand and bounces back. Kise takes it from him and puts it in its rightful place.

“But I do,” Kise counters, taking Kagami’s hands in his own. They’re a little bigger, less well manicured but just as calloused near the part where wrist and palm meet. He lets go and pours some baby oil into Kagami’s hands, spreading it with his own fingers. Behind him there’s tension but trust; complete stillness while he goes about it. 

When they’re slick he lets go and turns around so he’s chest to chest with Kagami, rising to his knees. Kagami looks up at him, still curious even if he’s hesitant.

“Point out with one finger,” Kise instructs, demonstrating until Kagami copies him. It’s weird to have someone else’s hand and try to move it, but between his legs Kagami’s instinct takes over, as if it pities Kise’s difficulty in trying to help. Kagami’s fingers are about as large as his own when one of them slides in; tight but not odd. He doesn’t intend to always take; but it’s too soon and too delicate to switch. “Like that.”

Without instruction Kagami slides it in and out of him, enough so that Kise can lean forward and rest on him without worrying.

“Another one,” He says, mouth close to Kagami’s ear. He looks only a little confused, otherwise full of fascination peering over Kise’s shoulder trying to see. His gaze only flicks downwards for a second when Kise reaches down with one slick hand to stroke himself, breathing becoming erratic.

“This is good?” Kagami asks, with horrible timing for questions. He sounds like he’s skeptical, as if he can’t believe it can feel good. A third finger joins when he seems to make a good judgement call, making Kise moan.

“Yes,” He hisses out, stroking himself faster. He comes with a groan, body tensing everywhere. No part of him is aware enough to wish he hadn’t done it in the water; a few strands stick on Kagami’s chest. “It’s good.”

He catches his breath, letting Kagami process it. Under the water he’s hard, but Kise hesitates to rush him. Instead he grabs a cloth, cleaning the semen off of Kagami. He gets out first, wrapping himself in a soft blue towel. Kagami follows him, leaning on him heavily after he gets his own towel. He seems to think a lot while Kise gets them both a snack; tugs him close when he sits back down.

“Okay,” Kagami tells him, and Kise’s not sure what he’s agreeing to but it seems like progress. He smiles, and Kagami grins back.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kiyohyuu with a bad case of feels.

“You’re so cruel, Junpei,” Kiyoshi says, taking liberties with his name again. The words are a long, slow drawl full of petulance. He watches Hyuuga with eyes like a sad puppy, desperately trying to get out of physiotherapy exercises. He knows he needs them, Hyuuga’s sure of it, but he’d rather do them at home on his own. For all he’s cheerful and interesting and never gives up, he’s remarkably stupid about showing how much his injury hurts. His hands reach out to Hyuuga; big hands that cradle responsibility. Hyuuga wishes Kiyoshi would share it equally instead of the way he pretends it’s equal when it isn’t.

“I’m not cruel,” Hyuuga says, voice stern and gaze hard. He smacks Kiyoshi’s abs with the back of his hand, reaching out for Kiyoshi’s bag after. Keeping it bound all the time is better for his support, but Hyuuga knows he doesn’t and knows it’s hard to do on his own body. The loose school uniform pants slide up easily, and the bandages are messy things. “I’m just saving you from your own stupidity.”

The bandages come off easily, and he marvels for a second at how despite his injury, Kiyoshi still has strong legs. They’re firm under his hands when he tips oil into them and puts his hands on Kiyoshi’s knee as gently as possible; they’re practically hard when he tenses.

“Hold on to a pillow or something, idiot,” Hyuuga mutters, looking up at Kiyoshi’s carefully-guarded expression. He’s too talented at keeping up a smile for his own good, even when it’s with Hyuuga. After all this time, he knows it’s not a sign that Kiyoshi doesn’t trust him - it’s just a deeply ingrained habit. He shoves a pillow at Kiyoshi, and though his expression doesn’t change the fluffy fabric is clenched in his big hands.

They hold on tighter when Hyuuga moves his hands, as delicate as he can be while still being effective. Even when Kiyoshi protests, he does his part; he always has. The movements are routine, almost done without thinking when it was so hard during the hours the physiotherapist taught him what to do.

The flesh under his hands is always a feverish type of hot, but he ignores it and does what he has to. He never gets an answer when he asks, but he thinks it must hurt more after it’s done and he makes Kiyoshi lift his leg to bind his knee tightly and properly. A little of the oil slicks the edges of the bandages, but they sit as well as they’re meant to. When he’s done, two big hands take hold of him and tug him up the bed until he’s on Kiyoshi’s chest.

The pillow is replaced by him and he’s held tight, almost painfully so. Hot breath washes over his neck where Kiyoshi buries his face, letting the quiet sink in again. Hyuuga thinks it must hurt; the constant reminder that this is the last time for him, always. Even more than the injury or the therapy; Hyuuga can’t imagine when it twists his own stomach unbearably hard when he thinks of it.

He reaches up to tangle his fingers in Kiyoshi’s hair, holding on tight. Logically, he thinks it’s stupid - he won’t stop being friends with Kiyoshi because he stops playing basketball (he hadn’t before, and that was after the idiot had pestered him until he’d formed a basketball team). He’ll still see Kiyoshi every day, and visit after his operation. They’ll stress over math problems together and Kiyoshi’s big hands will caress the back of his head when he gets it. Kiyoshi will still drink tea with a little sugar and smile at him because he’s done it right.

But they won’t play together; Hyuuga will play alone, and knowing Kiyoshi will never be there to take passes and dunk is a painful shot. 

He sighs, long and deep, holding on to Kiyoshi tighter. Arms tighten around his waist for a moment before it’s over and Kiyoshi leans back to press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Thank you, Junpei,” Kiyoshi says with a pleasant smile, knowing how much of a liberty he’s taking. He presses another kiss to the corner of Hyuuga’s mouth, then on his lips once, twice, until Hyuuga loses count and his hands tangle in soft brown hair, and he forgets the future.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokaga. frank ocean's novacane is aokaga material.  
> also, i hate crossposting.

The pizza between them is hot, extra large with every topping available except olives. Kagami’s couch is soft and comfortable underneath them. Aomine doesn’t know how Kagami got beer, but it’s the nice kind that tastes good (though they all taste good when they’re ice cold.

Fuck me good, fuck me long, fuck me numb, the speakers chant. Kagami’s introducing him to more American music, and Aomine’s liking it. The beat is comfortable and fast paced enough while still relaxed enough to make him feel good. 

The pizza’s gone in no time, and Aomine leans forward to put the empty box and his empty bottle on the table. Kagami’s is on the floor next to the couch. When he leans back, he leans towards Kagami and takes a kiss, easily following him to lay down on the couch.

Their kiss are slow and sloppy open mouthed things. Aomine likes Kagami having muscle; they’re not boobs but they’re something to hold on to and palm. He doesn’t do much more, just tangles their legs together and keeps up his kiss. For once it’s with competition; Aomine wonders if this is what being high feels like. 

It’s dark out, and the only light in the room comes from a lamp off to the side. It’s at his back and doesn’t shine in his eyes. They make out for a long time, and eventually Aomine goes home. Kagami walks him to the station and kisses him in the shadow behind a pillar; they always taunt eachother with barely hidden kisses. 

He takes the train home, and falls asleep slightly buzzed without taking his jeans off. Being with Kagami is easy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kagahimu yeah

Himuro misses Kagami when they part in the States, feels relieved when they meet again, and can’t help a smile when he learns that Kagami lives all alone. The distance between Yosen and Seirin is too far to travel often, so they keep in contact over text messages and chat services - when he has time he stays over.

In the time they’ve been apart, they’ve both learned new things. The bitterness between them is like a block from Himuro’s side, impossible to scale and hard to break down. It takes Kagami a while to do so, but then he sits down for a game and he’s the friend Himuro remembers - it’s like a shot to the heart that rips down his barricades.

Apart from math and cooking, Himuro shows off his own new skills.

Kagami’s cock has gotten bigger, age showing from the last time they explored eachother as friends coming into their sexuality.

Himuro draws his tongue up and down the shaft, tracing faint patterns. It’s hot and stiff under his hands, slightly lighter than the rest of Kagami’s skin. He rubs his cheek along it like a cat and one hand tangles in his hair to brush it away from his eyes; Kagami sees all of him in that moment. He trails down, mouthing softly at Kagami’s balls. His head falls back as soon as Himuro does, eyes squeezing shut tight at a sensation he’s probably never had before.

His legs spread easy at Himuro’s insistence, but he’d stopped when he makes to move forward.

“I’m not…” Kagami starts, looking hesitant, as if he feels guilty for wanting Himuro to bottom.

“You don’t have to bottom,” Himuro answers him, voice soothing and quiet. “You can still feel it here before you top.”

There’s a silent sort of agreement, and he leans forward to trace his tongue over Kagami’s hole, teasing it gently inside. He doesn’t push for entry; leaves fingers for a later time. This soon he’s not sure Kagami would be okay with it - without knowing it’d ruin the mood.

“Have you ever done it with guys?” Himuro asks, quiet when Kagami’s thighs start to tense in pleasure. He sits back, reaches for lube he always has with him and holds him up. Not everyone likes fingering, if Kagami doesn’t want it he’ll do it himself. 

“Yeah,” Kagami says, grabbing the bottle from him. He looks at it skeptically for a second, reading the English printed label. It does its job when he pours it over his fingers, slicking them up properly. He reaches out to slide one in, looking up at Himuro’s face in surprise. “You…?”

“Not with guys all the time,” Himuro says, moving his hips to get Kagami’s fingers deeper inside of him. They slip in easily; three is perfect and he rides them, feeling everything when Kagami spreads his fingers in an effort to stretch him more. “Usually just myself… it feels better if I get off with something in there.”

He has a pretty face, and he knows it - most people get confused when filth comes out of his mouth. Kagami removes his fingers though, driven to the edge by Himuro’s words. 

His cock is still a tight fit, but slick enough to get in. It’s a little bigger than the toy he has at home, but real always beats plastic. Kagami’s hot and real inside of him, and he clenches down on him for the reaction.

Kagami thrusts up into him hard in an instant reaction and sets the pace, not content to just let Himuro ride him. He sits up after a few strokes, holding on to Himuro tight while they move in unison. With an empty appartment they don’t need to be quiet, and that’s new too.

He comes first, and Himuro gets himself off on the feeling of semen inside of him. Kagami’s still a cuddler, still kisses him afterwards, and still respects him in the morning.

He hasn’t changed at all.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kiyohyuu slight future!fic

After he stops playing basketball, Hyuuga knows he still comes to watch them. Kiyoshi comes by, with piles of extra homework and pretends to be casual about doing it. Hyuuga knows better; Kiyoshi is full of the kind of passion that will never let him do things only halfway. He never shares what he’s studying, but when Hyuuga catches a glimpse, it’s medicine.

They graduate, Kiyoshi more easily than Hyuuga. Leaving the team behind is an emotional but good natured affair and he rents an appartment close to the university both of them get in to. He takes engineering, easier than medicine when some nights Kiyoshi pours over his books with his hands in his hair trying to figure out what’s what and why it’s like that. Hyuuga brings him coffee and sits with him; he doesn’t offer explanations but he offers comfort to Kiyoshi that he’s not alone.

He goes to work for a mechanic when it’s over, while Kiyoshi starts an internship at a nearby hospital - he’s in the pediatrics ward and they love him. When Hyuuga comes by, Kiyoshi is always smiling. His big hands look scary at first to kids he imagines, but they’re gentle and reveal lollipops or toys to keep them occupied while he checks their hearts or their ears. Rapdily he becomes by far their favourite doctor, and the others take to it good naturedly. Years later, Hyuuga still wonders how anyone could ever have hated Kiyoshi - even when he disliked him, he hadn’t hated him.

Kiyoshi rarely brings home work with him, but now and then he’s more delicate with Hyuuga, or tries to bribe him with sweets and has the decency to look a little ashamed when Hyuuga gives him arch looks. Straight out of his internship, Kiyoshi gets a well deserved offer from a private practice a few cities over; he takes it after they discuss it for a long time.

When they get there, the house they’re offered is almost void of furniture, but it has all the potential to make a house a home. They make the bedroom on the first floor eventually - with a view and door to the garden. Kiyoshi never wants to be treated differently for his knee, but Hyuuga insists now and then on making life easy. In the mornings Kiyoshi always opens the door - a few weeks later Hyuuga learns Kiyoshi subtly adopted a cat (or two) that he feeds in the mornings. When Kiyoshi looks that happy, he can’t deny it and he starts putting cat food on their grocery list.

He brings lunch to Kiyoshi when he only works half days in the terrible economy (and really, it’s just his pride; as a private practice doctor Kiyoshi could support them if Hyuuga let him), and the other doctors smile at him with knowing looks and invite him to the company barbeques to make sure Kiyoshi won’t be too forgetful to ask. He says yes, brings marinated ribs to them and makes friendly with the other doctors.

They offer him a lot of things; friends of friends who may shares his interests, recipes for nice food and the best places to go see movies. He doesn’t realize when they get home that really, he and Kiyoshi are just as much a normal family as everyone else there.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokise uwu

Aomine is more considerate of him than he’d ever admit. He’s still a bit harsh, and too lazy to make his own dinner, but he’s a little bit gentle. Now and then he corrects Kise’s posture when they have one on ones, or buys him some chicken nuggets when Kise has a long photoshoot.

He saves him from fangirls, spoons him when they sleep and lets him wake up gently. Aomine always texts back too, and it’s always full of interest and conversation.

He’s just too considerate of Kise’s job.

“I want to hold hands, Aominecchi,” Kise insists after Aomine brushes his hand away for the umpteenth time. Being a famous model means being outed as gay would be disasterous, but Kise doesn’t care. When he’s with Aomine he could care less about candid shots and magazines, fangirls that would scream and faint at the sight of it. “I really want to.”

Aomine gives in. He does pretty easily, even if sometimes he does it with a sigh. Their fingers tangle together, soft and innocent, and he can feel the callouses on the palm of Aomine’s hand. Kise holds on tight, and swings his arm a little to test how it feels. It’s nice, and he says so.

He gets tugged behind a tall plant that hides them from sight, and Aomine kisses him.

“I like it too. You don’t need to tell me.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kagakise, ffvii au. implied character death.

“We should swap,” Kise says, clad in kevlar and metal, sword on his back. Kagami wears Shinra blue across from him, a rising star Kise is sure will join SOLDIER soon,and make him proud. He thumbs at the tags hanging from the chain around his neck and listens to them jingle. His name, his home, his number and type - everything about him is on them, and since he joined Shinra they haven’t left his body.

“Sure,” Kagami says, less skeptical than anyone else would be, but they trust eachother more than Kise has ever trusted anyone - Kagami isn’t afraid to train with him for fear of Kise mimicing his overdrives, Kagami isn’t afraid of a first class SOLDIER hanging out with him, he accepts Kise for no other reason than that he’s himself.

Kise takes them off, and waits for Kagami’s. They’re warm from his chest, and he smiles to see the information stamped across them. The i in Taiga is a little wonky, slightly offcenter where someone was making them, and he likes it.

His fingers memorize the pattern in Wutai, between the sticky heat of the forests and the glaring bullets from their enemies.

Kise’s sword is heavy in his hands, and surrounded by enemies he mimics the style he knows from Aomine - a low posture built on speed and agility. They don’t stop coming, not until he feels a few sniper rounds pierce his arms, and he exhausts their supply of men.

Shinra troopers don’t come until much later, and they camp out near an empty, ancient structure that looks no safer than a room full of heavily armed Wutains. If Kise feels guilt now and then about the massacre they commit, he erases it from memory with the same ease with which makes dinner.

The inside of the temple is decrepit, but the inner sanctum is large and holds a desperate Wutain general. Summons appear everywhere around him - of every element, and he’s tired.

The water summon goes down first - a large, eel-like creature with massive teeth that flies at him with anger fueled by a downtrodden country that won’t give up his pride. Kise’s arms ache, and fire scorches up his leg, through the kevlar and it hurts.

Even the puddle he falls to his knees in doesn’t extinguish it, and the air summon flies at him with open beak and rage.

Kise really hopes they find out their mistake before they send his tags to Taiga’s mother.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokaga, handcuffed together.

“Why did you have to argue with a yakuza?” Kagami asks, muffled through the gag in his mouth. He’s back to back with Aomine, but his hands are cuffed in front of Aomine and vice versa. A tall, burly man looks at them like they’re not worth keeping, but stays at the door for his boss anyway.

Aomine tips his head back and it clashes with Kagami’s until he swears out a protest.

“How was I supposed to know they were yazuka?” Aomine protests, equally muffled. The yakuza in question is fairly tall, but not as tall as them, and less muscled. The hired security that flank him are big, unsmiling men. The yakuza himself looks less than pleased, and kicks at a rock until it bounces off Kagami’s leg. It hurts, but it’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever felt.

“You’re lucky,” He snarls out, and grabs at Aomine’s hair to make him look up. Everything is Aomine’s fault anyway, from refusing to get off someone’s property to mouthing off at them, to getting them handcuffed together in a seedy room off in an alleyway. 

And he leaves. Kagami thinks he catches a mutter about Akashi, but he can’t be sure at all. He leans to the side and makes Aomine do the same in the other direction, thanking the gods for his huge mouth that lets him close it just far enough to get a grip on the knot in the back of Aomine’s gag. He returns the favour.

“When do you think Akashi’s gonna get here?” Kagami asks, but means of idle conversation. He leans on Aomine until they’re both pushing hard and topple over to the side. It starts a bickering match that neither of them win, but involves a lot of rolling around and kicking.

Akashi doesn’t come till midnight.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aokise, handcuffed together

“This isn’t fair,” Kise says, and holds out his wrist to Akashi nontheless. To his left, Aomine does the same. They’re reluctant, but Akashi is scary when he’s denied, and he’s not stupid enough to say no when he’s only just become a member.

“It’s fair on the benched players,” Akashi tells him, conviction in his voice before he handcuffs them together and walks off. Kise can’t see it, but he thinks Akashi must have a smirk on his face when Midorima coughs to hold back a laugh.

Deep down, he knows it’s to force Aomine into some semblance of teamwork, and to push Kise to the limit of what predictions he can mimic from Akashi.

They feint to the left in unison, and being together makes it harder to pass a screen from one of their teammates, but they manage. Aomine is fast - Kise does his best to keep up, and jumps when they reach the basket, bringing up his hand to avoid getting his arm ripped off.

They dunk, and take the first point of the match.

Kise wins overwhelmingly by Aomine’s side.

“See?” Aomine asks, crossing his arms (and Kise’s hand), when he stands in front of Akashi. “Even with this handicap I can still win.”

It stings a little, but no more than it logically should. Akashi keeps the key when he leaves.

Undressing is awkward, impossible with their arms trapped together, and the ride home garners them strange looks from people who think they’re holding hands.

Aomine is surprisingly cuddly when he drags Kise down for a nap, nuzzling into his neck with a sleepy kind of childish greed and leaves the handcuffs between them.


	23. wanna buy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hooker!au kisekaga

“Wanna buy me?” the handsome redhead in shorts and a tanktop, covered in sweat and holding a basketball asks him. Instantly, Kise feels like a dirty old man for looking and catching the faint outlines of nipples peaking in the cooling summer evening, then feels worse when he accepts with a straight face. Even if he looks ten years younger than he is, that’d still be ten years too old.

“Sure,” Kise says, sounding blasé even to his own ears; too many years in the modelling industry, as an agent rather than a model now. Turning on his heel, he books into a hotel with the exact same routine he uses for potential model interviews, getting shy smiles from the girls employed who hope to get scouted by him. “C’mon.”

“Thanks, man-” the handsome redhead starts, but really, he doesn’t want to be thanked for sex and takes his chance, stepping forward to steal a kiss and press his advantage to guide them to the bed. The hour passes in a blur, full of the sweet pleasures of a man unused to an attentive lover.

“Why’d you sell yourself to me?” he asks after, with Taiga exhausted, halfway to sleep with his head in Kise’s lap. His hair’s soft from the conditioning after their final round in the shower, and smells pretty.

“You seemed nice,” Taiga says, stomach grumbling almost louder than his answer. Kise supposes the workout has made him hungry, too, and keeps roomservice in mind. “I don’t want to sell myself to bad guys.”

Privately, Kise counts himself as one, and knows it’s unfair to lecture him on the subject when he’s probably paying off debts or somesuch thing.

“Can I call you?” he asks instead, letting the purpose for the call hang in the air in ambiguity, ready for rejection probably given often.

“I’d like that,” he gets instead, with a shy smile tacked on the end, and wonders if he can pass hotels off as a business expense.


	24. liar liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kagakise regency au

“I must make myself a liar,” Kise apologizes. He looks resplendent in royal reds with gold trim, haloed by summer sunlight and the sounds of a feast in progress. If there’s anything his family does well, it’s pretend there’s not a war on their doorstep that they’re rapidly losing. Across from him, Kagami - Taiga, not only if no one looks - looks up, frown plain on his face. In the summer sun, he looks like a forest fire already burning.

“I don’t understand,” Kagami counters, and Kise admits he’s been very vague. Part of it is perhaps his reluctance to admit his actions. For a moment, he closes his eyes to steel himself, and the prince he is for his people - the summers’ prince - gives way to autumn.

“I vowed I would never ride to war,” he starts, moving closer and sitting down, far closer than he ought to. Under the table, he curls a hand around Kagami’s and feels the signet ring click against his own multitude of rings. Duty, cast in gold and jewels. “But father is dead and our generals flag without a leader. Aomine - he’s tough and brilliant and unbeatable, but if he has no purpose, he’ll no longer fight for us. I must ride to war - show my strength and belief in our cause, and bring home victory.”

For a moment, he gains silence; the knitting together of red brows and a twitch in the hands beneath his. He knows Kagami loathes the war they’re fighting, and the hatred cast between them. Kise understands it well; once, he’d thought himself friends with the usurper trying to win his throne.

“I’ll ride to war with you then,” Kagami says eventually, and lays his other hand on top of Kise’s. He’s every inch the wild thing from the remote regions, and every bit the fires that sweep the lands when the hot summer sun burns the kindling of their forests. He sighs deep and forces a smile for Kise, then adds, “To keep the two of you out of trouble.”

His worry sparks plain on his face, but his shoulders are broad and strong and carry more burdens than Kise can think of. Within moments, he becomes the guard that Kise has always seen: energetic, hardworking, and overwhelming. When he stands to leave, Kise gives him a smile befitting a summers’ prince, and vows to keep true to his word they’ll win this war.


	25. to the victor go the spoils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more kagakise regency au

"I hate to say we’re losing," Midorima starts, mid-war, mid-encampment when Kise is covered in blood, so much blood, and Kagami knows what to do but suddenly can’t remember. They’re so close to victory he can taste it - all it would take was one last seige, one sneak attack on the main fortress and a bloody battle to kill the usurper after all these months - but defeat creeps toward them as a shadow is always wont to do.

"We’ve been losing for the past three years," Aomine cuts him off, coiled tension making him look like a caged animal, pacing the confines of their prince’s tent. When the war is over, Kise will be dead, or a King. The odds terrify Kagami and spur him to greater measures. He can lose a battle - he can lose the war - but he can’t lose Kise.

"We’ll continue to lose with that mindset," Kise scolds, but he looks tired in his grand seat, like if they lose this battle he might keel over from the effort, and he smiles at them still. His smile is more private to Kagami, blatant in the company of men as private as they are, and it holds promises that make Kagami want to rage with their unfairness.

The entire war is unfair; Akashi grasping at power and nearly succeeding, their desperate fight to keep a hold of their throne and the pain of Himuro leaving him to follow the general who followed Akashi. The hunger their people suffer, the good men who die: unfairness all around that he loathes to be part of.

"It’s almost over," he reassures instead, and stands straight despite his back aching from the heavy weight of plate armour over chainmail, and the zweihander on his back. The ache pulses from the center to his shoulders and to his head beyond it. But dawn approaches and he refuses to let aches and pains stop him from protecting his king. "Just tonight."

With little else they prepare, mount the horses and take their hundred men. Most will die, he holds no illusions, but after tonight it’s done. Pulling his horse up beside Kise’s, he grasps at the hand he’s knelt at to receive his title, his spurs and his loyalty, then kisses the back of it. Onlookers avert their eyes from king and knight, plotting their final moves on the board in a desperate plea to win.

"I refuse to give up," he manages, feeling hoarse and anxious, with his stomach in knots. On either side of them, banners raise and the drums beat to start the first wave of their assault on the castle, allowing their quicker men to open the gates. With a shaky sigh, he lets go of the hand in his and shivers, then focuses on winning.


	26. fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kiyohyuu domestic au

Kiyoshi is, if truth be told, rarely afraid.

He has been afraid - painfully so, on more occasions than one - but in his adult life, he finds little fear. Stress and worries pile on top of him like sand, weighing down on his bad knee that feels like it’s going to give.

(And his knee has been a point of fear for him: a blinding spike of pain, paramedics pressing a mask to his face to dull the pain and the resulting fear he might never walk again.)

And in life, he only finds some fears.

He finds himself afraid when it’s dark, and it snows heavily, and Junpei is not home, or when oil in a pan sizzles and spits, making him hiss and jump back in pain.

And sometimes, he muses, perhaps adulthood is fear for others.

“You know,” he murmurs, in the dark of autumn, with the windows open to let in the cool night’s air. Every now and then the sound of a car passing rouses him from dosing, and he’s not certain Junpei’s awake. A small stir in his arms - he’s the big spoon, comfortably so - signals enough to him after years together. “Sometimes I think I could wrap you up in a bubble.”

The words are not what he means, but he’s never been clear with words. In his arms, Junpei rolls over, and kisses him with a groggy scowl barely visible in the meager light that manages to penetrate through their curtains.

“Idiot,” he continues to scowl, and kisses him, gentle and slow and soothing. His hand runs down Teppei’s thigh, to the knee wrapped tight in a brace. He fears surgery’s complications, and makes excuses to stave it off. “That’s my line.”

With a final kiss he rolls back over, falls fast asleep and breathes evenly, deeply. Sometimes, fear is not an altogether bad thing.


	27. stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wing!fic kagakise

"Please stop," Kagami cringes, mostly asleep and wearing pajama bottoms and not much else. His wings - beautiful, tawny reds and browns, big enough to carry him aloft - are splayed out fully, with the edges easily hanging off the bed. Kise is on top of him, sort of, or he should have been at two in the morning on a Wednesday night.

Instead he’s on his knees between Kagami’s thighs, leaning forward to lick at Kagami’s feathers.

"I’m not a meal. I know, birds and cats, but there’s chicken in the fridge," he grimaces, and Kise’s ears - fluffy, yellow and soft - flatten against his head. He looks up with a bit of a frown, the tip of his tongue still poking out from between his lips where he’d been licking at Kagami’s feathers. Twin tips of his fangs are barely visible.

"I’m not trying to eat you," Kise frowns and the little pink tongue disappears back into his mouth. He stops purring, and Kagami only notices it had been there now it’s absent. With a shake of his hand Kise disentagles his claws from where he’d been kneading into the blankets. "Moriyama said birds needs to have their feathers groomed, but your parents aren’t here, Kagamicchi. I thought you should be groomed."

The sentiment is sweet if wrong, and Kise looks distraught at the idea of Kagami’s misundersanding (though Kagami sneakingly suspects that Kise always lays it on thick to get his way), so he shrugs, making his wings move a bit, and sighs.

"Thanks, Kise. I usually wash them in the shower, but if you really want to groom them…" he trails off, wanting to go back to sleep and leave it up to fate. Cats being night creatures will never stop backfiring on him.

"That’s so nice, Kagamicchi," Kise smiles, with the kind of look he gives Kagami’s cooking, and sets again to grooming him properly. Kagami is going to strangle Moriyama.


	28. suits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kagakise

"You need a suit," Kise insists at just past twenty, when Kagami tries to apply for mundane office jobs that will pay his way through college. Despite his honesty he is proud, and refuses to let Kise pay their way in rent. With nothing on that front, Kise helps as much as he can. "I’ll borrow one from work for you."

At work, he picks one he likes; pinstripe black trousers and a plain white shirt big enough to fit Kagami. The jacket is similar, but impossible in the summer’s heat.  
"I feel ridiculous," Kagami protests once in it: his posture is awkward, displeased and slightly unconfident. It’s the image he’s meant to portray that throws him off, moreso than the clothes. No matter Kise’s encouragement, Kagami’s grades have never been anything less than abysmal.

He does the clothes justice, in Kise’s opinion. The pinstripe hugs his hips, then his legs, and sends thoughts through Kise’s mind that have no use of his brain. The shirt strains slightly at the well-toned, well-trained muscle in his arms.

"You don’t look it," he laughs a bit, unashamed of his desire in Kagami’s presence. "You look a million bucks."

A little awkwardness leaves his posture, shifting towards the natural ease with which he displays his body to Kise.

"I’d fuck you right now," Kise admits, shrugs, then sighs. "But not with the job interview soon. You need that shirt in one piece."

With a laugh Kagami settles more at ease and slips on the jacket, giving Kise a good view of his ass.

"Maybe we’ll have something to celebrate," Kagami suggests, and on his way out it’s not a door that slaps him on the ass - it’s Kise.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murahimu

Sometimes, on Tuesdays, Atsushi would have a dirty thought or two.

Now, it wasn’t because Tuesdays were particularly arousing days, or that he liked the start of weeks (he didn’t, not even when it was the holidays, and he woke up without someone to make him breakfast), but it was the day Himuro had physical education in the courtyard overlooked by Atsushi’s classroom.

As a rule, Himuro was a very handsome man. He was quite tall compared to the average (if not to Atsushi), goodlooking, and very charismatic. 

And Atsushi, as another rule, was not very jealous (because he was not, in any way, shape or form, in love or even particularly strong like with Himuro), so he could very well enjoy Himuro’s shorts.

For shorts, they weren’t very short. They came to his knees, not much different to the basketball shorts, but something about them was very appealing. They were black, under a white shirt with the school’s logo printed on it, and despite being very loose still managed to cling to him.

Because he was not in love with Himuro, Atsushi of course did not notice Himuro’s squats during basketball practice, or how wonderful the result was when Himuro did stretches before running.

Except for when he did notice, very strongly, with a harsh and immediate reaction that tuned out the droning voice of a geography lesson quite neatly.

(Not that he did notice, because that would mean maybe he  _was_  in like with Himuro, which he wasn’t. He didn’t want to share a strawberry croissant with him, or touch his butt, or watch him play basketball in the evenings. He didn’t want to at all. Usually.)

And then, sometimes, Himuro would turn and wave at him, and smile his stupid j-pop smile. It was very stupid, with pretty white, straight teeth and a nice mouth that Atsushi had looked at very closely (under the pretense of) looking at it stealing his sweets.

Then sometimes, he had very dirty thoughts looking at Himuro running, imagining him hot and sweaty for the wrong reasons, without the shorts or maybe with them pushed to the side, and yeah, Tuesdays weren’t too bad at all.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aoki

"Fuck off," the disembodied voice on the other end of the phone growls. It’s a tired kind of angry, and he’s fairly certain its name isn’t "easy fuck", like is scrawled on the bathroom door.

“Well,” Kise says in dramatic outrage. “That’s incredibly impolite.”

The disembodied voice scoffs, then sighs, and there’s a sound of rustling paper, like his reaction has confused it.

"I guess you know about your phone number in the bathroom, huh," it’s a statement more than a question, and Kise lets it linger in the air. He’s very good at uncomfortable silences.

"Yeah," the voice says eventually. "Asshole ex. It’s not just one bathroom."

Kise wishes he could sympathize. Normally, though, it’s him being called the asshole ex - but more for a text breakup than anything else. The silence stretches itself awkwardly thin.

"So did you call for a fuck, or…?" the voice gets defensive. A lot of people do when faced with quiet, Kise has realized. Human nature makes him smile.

"No," he says cheerfully, and nothing else. The frustration is almost tangible. "But I could show you where the number is."

There’s a moment where the voice just breathed.

"So you can remove it," he elaborates.

"That sounds good," he gets eventually. Human nature is very giving with its trust.

"I’ll meet you by the trainstation. I’ll look for you, …"he trails off, baiting out a name.

"Aomine," the voice offers, easy as he please.

"Great!" Kise cheers, and marvels at how easy life is. "I’ll see you there."


End file.
